


On Stage

by Cassiara



Series: Watch Me 'Verse [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Harry Potter, Dom Draco Malfoy, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Minor Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Open Relationships, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pornstar Harry Potter, Public Sex, Sex Club, Sex Work, Shibari, Sub Harry Potter, implied aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiara/pseuds/Cassiara
Summary: Harry loves his new job making and selling Pensive Porn. He loves his open relationship with Ron and the fact that Ron has set him up on a sex date with Malfoy. The BDSM club Malfoy runs has an exhibition room, and it’s just what they need.Part of a PWP series, but can be read alone.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Watch Me 'Verse [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1522358
Comments: 6
Kudos: 145





	On Stage

**Author's Note:**

> It's kinktober again, so I picked up where I left off 😅 This was written for the kink Shibari, but also includes a few others - all in the tags.
> 
> This can be read on it's own, but I'd love it if you checked out the previous parts of the Watch Me series. 
> 
> Thank you so much, Pineau_noir, for the beta-work!

Harry walks into the empty club feeling almost electric. This will be something new entirely. Not because of the bondage; he’s tried that with Ron a couple of times just to make sure he's into it. And he knows he likes making porn for other people to watch. No, what’s new is that there will be people watching him as it happens. People Harry can see and hear.

Malfoy had written and suggested the exhibitionist room in his BDSM club, and Harry had felt a rush of desire flood him at the thought. It feels stronger now, growing in intensity because of his nerves. 

“Welcome, Potter,” Malfoy says. “I’m glad you made it.”

Harry smiles, looking Malfoy up and down. He’s in trousers and a button-up shirt, and Harry’s relieved at the lack of latex. 

“So am I,” Harry admits. “Fuck, it’s weird to see this place so empty.”

“One gets used to it,” Malfoy says. “Give it an hour and it’ll be crowded.”

“Why did you want me to come early?” Harry asks. He tugs at his t-shirt, wondering if he should have worn something else.

“I never do a scene without communicating in person first,” Malfoy explains. “We need to go over what we feel comfortable doing.”

Harry blushes and laughs at his reaction. “I wonder how I’m fine making porn but can’t have a conversation about sex without blushing.”

“Well this whole thing is pretty surreal,” Malfoy says, gesturing between them. “Both of us doing sex-work. The two of us, well —”

“About to fuck?” Harry laughs. “If I’m honest I’ve wanted your cock up my arse since the war.”

“Fifth-year for me,” Malfoy admits, and Harry laughs again. 

“Yeah, we could have made life a lot easier for ourselves if we’d just hooked up sooner,” Malfoy says. “So, what did you want to do this evening? I assume you’re alright with people watching, seeing as you make porn and agreed to the exhibitionist room.”

“I am,” Harry agrees. “Though it’ll be my first time having strangers watching in person.”

He studies Malfoy and considers what he’ll be comfortable doing with the man. “I’m alright with the bondage you suggested too, but for whatever reason, I’m not super-into having my hands and feet tied together, separately is fine though. 

“Excellent,” Malfoy says. “Any preference on what I should tie you up with?”

“I like when I can feel it, I’ve been using that blue bondage-rope you sell here with Ron. It’s got the perfect amount of friction.”

“Still can’t believe you two ended up together,” Malfoy laughs. “We’ll use the blue rope then. Anything else you want to do, or would be alright doing?”

“I’m alright with anal, oral, spanking, hair-pulling and using toys,” Harry says. “Oh, and I very much prefer to bottom.”

“Yes, Weasly did mention that,” Draco says. “I laid out some toys and whatnot in the room, you can pick out the ones you’re comfortable with me using.”

“Ron can pick them out,” Harry says. “He knows what I like, and I like to be surprised.”

* * *

There is a small round stage in the middle of the room, and Harry walks up to it. He hears the other people in the room breathing, but he can’t see them through the light of the stage. He knows Ron is somewhere in the room. That Malfoy is probably there too. He knows the table hidden in half-darkness has the blue rope and whatever toys Ron picked out, and that’s all he knows. Excitement tingles across his skin, and Harry can’t believe he’s getting this. That he’s about to be tied up, on stage, and get off with Draco Malfoy.

He takes a deep breath and takes the final step up, standing fully on the stage in his jeans and shirt, listening as the people watching him breathe and shift in their seats. He wonders if any of them are getting themselves off already, hard with anticipation, just like he is. 

“Undress,” Malfoy says, and Harry turns his head, trying to determine where the voice is coming from. The room has a strange echo to it though, and he can’t locate Malfoy. 

A ball of nervousness flitters alive in Harry’s stomach and he smiles with it because somehow it just strengthens his arousal. He steps closer to the middle of the stage and lifts his shirt over his head at the same time. He holds it in his hand for a couple of breaths, wondering what to do with it before he decides to toss it into the darkness beyond the stage. 

He unbuttons his jeans, the nervous flutter settling in his fingers and making them struggle with the fly for a second before he finally gets it, and allows his jeans to drop to the floor. He steps out of them and kicks them to the side. Hesitantly he places his hands on the waistband of his jeans, unsure if Malfoy wants him to remove them. When warm hands cover his own he jumps and then shivers a little as a fully clothed body pushes into his back. Malfoy has joined him on stage.

“You still want this?” Malfoy whispers, mouth so close to Harry’s ear he can feel lips moving against it. 

“Yes,” Harry breathes, letting his body relax into Malfoy’s and seeking comfort from it. 

“They’re all watching you, you know,” Malfoy says. “Eyes wide, hands down their pants, wishing they could be the one up here with you.”

Harry smiles, wondering what the crowd makes of their conversation. If they’re really as jealous as Malfoy says they are. He’s pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of the blue rope against his arm. Malfoy is just running it up and down, letting Harry get used to the feel of it while the audience audibly holds their breath. Malfoy lets most of the rope fall to the floor, and lays the end he’s holding on to over one of Harry’s shoulders, running it across his chest and tucking it below his arm on the other side. He ties it in the back and repeats the motion the other way around, making an x across Harry’s chest. 

Harry breathes deeply and lets the slight friction of the rope ground him to the moment. His erection is achingly hard now, and the ropes are already making him hyper-aware of his own body. How his skin is heated against the cold room, and how Malfoy’s fingers run across it as he ties knot after knot down Harry’s back and chest. When he pauses Harry looks down at himself and sees the rope is tied in a diamond pattern down his chest. Harry’s arms are still free, but he can’t move without feeling the rope pull and tighten around him. He feels powerful, and it feels misplaced until he realises he loves how he looks like this. He loves how he’ll look to everyone watching, how desperate they’ll feel watching him like this. It’s a kind of power he’s never had, and he loves it. 

“I’m going to take your pants off now,” Malfoy says. His hands wrap around Harry from behind, running down the knots in the rope and finding the waistband of Harry’s pants. Harry breathes in anticipation, but Malfoy doesn’t stop to pull them off yet, instead moving his hands further down to rub Harry’s cock through his pants. Harry arches his back, gasping at the combined sensation of the ropes against his skin and the pressure on his cock. He closes his eyes and lets the sensations take over, carrying him to that place where want and touch and pleasure are the only things that matter. 

Malfoy slides his pants down and Harry groans as his cock is exposed to the air, and the gaze of everyone watching. He isn’t the only one who makes a sound; groans and moans echo off the walls of the room and the obvious pleasure of the others in the room only works to intensify Harry’s own pleasure. 

Malfoy brings the end of the rope down over Harry’s hip and wraps it around his thigh. It’s high enough that it rests against the base of Harry’s balls, and when Malfoy brings the rope back to tie it to his back he lays it across Harry’s arsecheek and pulls it a little, exposing Harry’s opening. Harry bites his lip and breaths harshly through his nose while Malfoy does the other side. This is the final bit of the rope, and Harry shivers with the thought of what comes next. 

Nothing comes next, apparently. Harry stays, leaning against Malfoy with his breath speeding with every second Malfoy doesn’t move. He needs to be touched or to touch. He needs _something_ to happen. 

“Open your eyes,” Malfoy says. Harry does and gapes at the sight of himself in a full-length mirror Malfoy has conjured. “Don’t worry, it’s one way. Everyone sitting behind it can still see us.”

Harry isn’t sure he cares what everyone else can see. He can’t take his eyes off himself in the mirror, how the ropes work to enhance everything he likes about himself, how they make him look strong and possessed all at the same time. His eyes look alive with arousal as they take in the sight of his own body, and the strong figure of Malfoy behind him. He’s still dressed, wearing pressed black trousers and a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. Malfoy looks put together and in control, and it’s a sharp contrast that brings out Harry’s need and desperation all the clearer. 

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to fuck you or not,” Malfoy says. “But looking at you now? Looking at how desperate you are to be had? I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll scream.”

Harry moans at the words, watching in the mirror as his cock twitches. “Please.”

Suddenly the mirror disappears, instead a metal bar appears in front of Harry, hovering at the height of his hips. 

“Grab it,” Malfoy says, stepping back from Harry and grabbing hold of the rope running down his back to push him down towards the bar. 

Harry lets himself be pushed forward, spreading his legs a little and wrapping his fingers against the cool metal. The bar is floating in thin air, but it doesn’t budge when he leans his weight against it. 

“Don’t let go,” Malfoy says, and steps back from Harry completely. 

Harry closes his eyes, his breath comes hard and fast, making the ropes tied around him shift and rub against his skin. Fuck, he wants this. He’s wanted this for so long; Malfoy, and the room full of people. The strangled groans and the unmistakable sound of wanking. He’s wanted to know for sure, how people feel when they watch his porn – and now he does. He can hear it echo in the room. And Malfoy, he has to be a kink all on his own. Being had by someone so completely in control, so careful and methodical, so bloody hot it makes Harry’s arse clench just thinking about having Malfoy buried in it. 

The sound of Malfoy’s zipper opening is so faint Harry might have missed it completely, if not for the collective hush that falls over the room at the same time. Harry is going to be fucked. And he’s ready, his rim already stretched and lubed up before he entered the stage. His cock has been aching on and off for days in anticipation. 

Malfoy’s hands are slick when they grab hold of Harry’s hips, and Harry knows he’s lubed his cock up already. That there are only moments between now and when he’s buried in Harry’s arse, fucking his brains out. The thought makes him moan softly and the sound seems to spur Malfoy on because the next thing Harry knows his cock is pressing against his opening in a slow but unyielding thrust. 

Harry’s soft moan grows louder as Malfoy enters him. He pushes back as much as he can without releasing the bar and shivers at the sensations of the ropes against his skin. The room isn’t quiet anymore. Harry isn’t holding anything back, and neither is his audience. Loud moans and the wet sounds of wanking rings in his ears, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard. They love it, he loves it. He loves that they love it. 

“Fuck, Potter,” Malfoy says when his hips close the distance to Harry’s arse. “Should have done this sooner.”

“Just do it now,” Harry groans. His cock aches with the need to be touched and the feeling of Malfoy in his arse is only making him hungry for more. 

Malfoy lets go of Harry’s hips and grabs the rope instead, pulling out and using the rope to pull Harry hard against him when he pushes back in. Malfoy sets an unrelenting pace and Harry lets his mouth fall open as pleasure spikes in his belly, clutching the bar tightly and letting Malfoy control his movements. 

Pleasure ebbs and flows in him, building steadily with every moan in the room, every thrust of Malfoy’s hips. The ropes around his torso only intensify everything, makes his skin flame with sensitivity and pleasure every time Malfoy pulls on them. Harry doesn’t know if he’s moaning or cursing, but his mouth still hangs open, gasping for breath and making sounds he’s too far gone to identify.

When Malfoy wraps a slick hand around Harry’s cock, he knows he won’t last long. The heat of Malfoy’s hand makes the nerve endings of his prick come alive, and he can’t help the desperate motion his hips make to get more. He wants more of the hand on his cock, more friction against his skin from the ropes, more force in Malfoy’s thrusts. He wants everything, and Malfoy gives it to him – thrusting harder and faster, and wanking Harry’s cock with determined strokes.

“I’m – aah, fuck. Malfoy, I’m going to – can I…?” Harry says, fighting hard to form the words he needs because he’s so close, so desperate to come and he isn’t sure if he needs permission before letting go.

“Come whenever you like, Potter,” Malfoy grunts, “I’ve been waiting years to feel your arse clench and quiver around my cock.”

“Fuck, Malfoy,” Harry says, breaking off into a moan and forgetting the rest of his sentence. He hears his moan echoed across the room as his audience reacts to Malfoy’s words too. 

Harry’s so close, but he wants to keep going. Wants to stand here and be fucked by Malfoy for hours until every bone in his body aches with it. And as much as he wants it to last, he wants the pleasure to spill over even more. To feel the waves of his orgasm rush over him for everyone to see. Then Malfoy does a particularly gifted twist of his hand on Harry’s cock and slams into his prostate at the same time, and it’s not Harry’s choice to wait or come anymore. 

The pleasure in his groin spreads out through his body as come spurt from his cock and lands on the floor. Harry bites his lip to keep from crying out, but Malfoy hisses in his ear, “I want to hear you.”

Harry releases his lip and lets his mouth make whatever sounds it wants while his body shakes and convulses with his orgasm. Malfoy fucks him through it, sending shivers of pleasure through him even as his orgasm fades. Malfoy’s orgasm takes Harry by surprise because his thrusts are hard and rhythmic until the very end. When he comes he groans, placing both hands on Harry’s hips and squeezing hard.

He doesn’t let go when he’s done. Instead, he quietly urges Harry to let go of the metal bar and lets him rest back against him like they’d started. Harry thinks he’s being shown off. That Malfoy is holding his spent body up for everyone to see, like an artist would show off a painting. Come is running down Harry’s stomach, and he can feel it starting to escape out of his arse too. Malfoy must realise too because he turns him around so the audience can see.

“You did so good Potter, so fucking good.” Malfoy looks pleased and sated, and Harry shines with pride because he did that. 

“Yeah?” he asks, smiling and bending over just a little bit. Just enough to make the ropes rub against his skin one last time, and to give the audience a final look at the come and lube escaping out of his arse. 

“You’re welcome back to my club anytime you like,” Malfoy says, grinning. 

“I’ll probably take you up on that,” Harry says. “Take me to the back now?”

“Of course,” Malfoy agrees and leads Harry off the stage.


End file.
